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"I am a poor wayfaring stranger
Traveling through this world of woe
Yet there's no sickness, toil nor danger
In that bright land to which I go
I'm going there to see my father
I'm going there no more to roam
I'm only going over Jordan
I'm only going over home"
- American traditional song
News comes that my friend Laurie is getting weaker and has lost some motor control. Her husband says she drifts in and out of responsiveness. He's not sure how much longer she'll stay.
I am so grateful I was able to visit her and spend some time talking with her. The beauty of those spring days will always hold in my memories of her.
I am so sorry, Aunt Snow, even while I'm glad that you had the opportunity to say goodbye.
ReplyDeleteI'm trying to decide if the blue sky in your picture is in the form of a bird in flight or a heart stretched thin. Both would fit with the feelings evoked by the poem/song -- one for the one headed to "that bright land" and the other for those left behind.
My condolences to her friends and family. You are lucky you got to see her.
ReplyDelete